


Economies of Trust

by AraSigyrn, deannawol



Series: Friday Night Firefight - Bad Nights and Big Cities [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:05:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/deannawol/pseuds/deannawol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam doesn't trust easily but when someone gets under his skin and into his heart, he'll move heaven and earth to keep them safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Economies of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> A preparatory character piece for Adam in the Silver Bullets and Circuitry verse.

Adam Lambert didn't do relationships. Which wasn't to say that he didn't do sex - because he did and as often as his overly dangerous lifestyle would allow - but rather than the people in his life were divided up into four categories: family, ex-lovers, unknowns and enemies, and there was no room in there for complications. 

When your day job was putting yourself in the firing line and getting shot at, well, you had to make sacrifices.  A wise man once said, ‘Have nothing in your life that you can’t walk out on in fifteen seconds flat’, or maybe it was a movie, but the principle still stood.  He lived by the gun.  And more than likely he’d die by it too and giving people power over you was just inviting an early grave.

However, that said, he did have a handful of people that had snuck in under his defenses and there was nothing he could do about that.  Take Allison, for example.  Allison was the kid sister of a guy that Adam used to run with, Streek.  He’d been loosely affiliated with Streek for what had to be five years, calling him in when he needed a little extra backup or an extra gun on a job.  The guy had been good, bit of a dick, but dependable and for Adam that was the most important fact.  But when Streek caught a .50 cal meant for Adam, Adam had agreed to his final request.  Maybe it had been guilt or just the brotherhood of the streets but either way, he’d inherited a little sister. 

It was awkward at first, being tied down and having to consider someone else and not just his own petty wants and needs.  And never had that point been rammed home so hard as when Allison had wandered in to investigate some ‘weird noises’ she’d heard.  Yeah, it had been a shocking lesson, but one that he hadn’t forgotten.  He’d gotten his payback the first time she’d brought a boy home.  Wasn’t technically his fault that the boy wasn’t street hardened and had gone running off at the sight of Adam’s very large, very shiny, very deadly guns pointed at him.  And damned but he’d paid for intimidating the guy later.  Who knew that little Allie had such a fiery temper?  She’d dyed her hair red shortly after that and Adam was glad.  Least now, there’d be a little warning for the unsuspecting residents of the city around them.

When she’d come to him shortly after her eighteenth birthday with plans for a club, he’d had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.  Allison who’d never been inside a club – or so he’d thought at the time – wanted to take over some run down joint a couple of blocks from The Gauntlet.  He’d put his foot down hard at the idea but it hadn’t taken her long to worm her way past any objections that he’d had.  And that was why family were dangerous. 

He’d caved and ended up fronting her most of the money, insisting that she not touch the creds that her brother had left her.  Never knew when you needed a rainy day fund, or a get-the-fuck-outta-here fund and he wouldn’t see her short if an emergency did come up.  He’d made and lost a fortune since taking up life on the other side of legal and a couple of hundred thousand dropped on Allison’s dreams still left him with more than enough operating capital.  He just hated the fact that this was going to leave her upset when it all came crashing down around her.  And it would.  She knew nothing about running a club and he didn’t know much more.

Idolize, a name that they’d fought over for almost six weeks, opened on a Friday night and was tanking right up until Adam had taken out his phone and started calling around.  Favours that could have been used for more life threatening situations were cashed in.  Fixers were bribed.  He’d even called the head of the taxi union, a guy who’d been looking to get into his pants for years, a guy who Adam couldn’t stand to be in a room with, and made nice with him just so that the taxi drivers would start dropping people off outside whether they liked it or not. 

He’d taken a bigger hand in the club shortly after that, and not entirely voluntarily, but that was what he got for not being quick enough when some piece of scum decided to use him as a speed bump.  Three broken bones, and one shattered femur, and he’d been glad of it and the steady stream of income.  He’d learned everything he needed to know about accounting and ordering and that he could _sing._  

Well, that might be a little of an over-exaggeration.  He knew he could sing well enough and he’d done a little karaoke but that was it.  He made a living with his wits and his weapons and he was happy with that.  Or he had been right up until Allison had stripped off his armoured jacket and shoved him onto the stage after the lead singer of the house band had called in sick. 

The first song had been flat, nothing special and no one had looked twice at him up there and for some reason that had offended him.  He was Silverfyre, best damned street merc in the city.  People were calling him day and night and begging him to take their jobs.  He didn’t get ignored.  A quiet word to the band, a change of tempo and he tried again, putting his heart and soul and so much heat into the lyrics.  As the last note faded out, silence rushed in and Adam opened his eyes to look at the crowd.

It was Allison who started the clapping, sweet little Allison and part of him was convinced that she was just humouring him until the rest of the crowd took up the clapping, whistling and demanding more.  Probably wasn’t the best decision in the world to go by Silverfyre on stage as well as on the street but he hadn’t been thinking, just sailing high on the adrenaline.

And now, here he stood, years later, the silent partner in one of the most successful runner clubs in the city, with three gigs a week and the pick of any job in the city.  Running might be a short life, but while it lasted, damn it was good.


End file.
